


Sente-me, Toca-me, Deseja-me [Feel me, Touch me, Desire me]

by xkylox



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Bathroom Sex, Daddy Kink, Degradation, F/M, Feelings, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, Happy Ending, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, just a very sad one shot with sex in between, the smut got lost in between, very emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xkylox/pseuds/xkylox
Summary: He's intoxicating. Lips bitter, tongue tasting like cigarettes and whiskey. His velvet voice whispering in your ear all the wrong things he's going to do that will make you feel so good.Your heart hammers against your ribcage in a way that you feel it in your eardrums. The wine goes up to your head as you can feel the effect of his touch in between your legs.Hot skin as your body aches for him. You need it.You know you are both out of your right minds. This has everything to deliver a chest full of regret the next morning as your head will ache from dehydration."This is wrong." A gasp escapes your lips as his own leave a tender kiss on your exposed neck."But I'll make it feel so good, babygirl."
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	1. Sente-me [Feel me]

**Author's Note:**

> this became just a feelings and emotions dump with some sex in between, that's all I have to tell you

****Flip Zimmerman // one shot**  
** ****Sente-me [Feel me]****

The night is quiet outside. A few cars pass by, but not enough to make your mind busy as you stare at the dress hanging from a hanger on your closet knob. 

Your eyes study it carefully, your mind remembering the meaning behind that dress. It’s dark blue, silky material and reaches a few inches above your mid thighs. The straps are thin and the front crosses in a X, creating little gaps, exposing your skin on the sides and front. You look away, your gaze falling on the high heels. Your stomach twitches.

The battle of feelings inside you is insane. You don’t want to care, you don’t want to feel sad about it. You don’t want the sorrow to drown you as you choke on desperate tears. 

But how can you not when the love of your life is getting married tomorrow and you’re not the woman down the aisle? You’re just going to sit at the back and watch the same man who makes your heart combust declare himself to another woman.

It’s a hard pill to swallow.

Without a second though, you get up and leave your room behind, walking to the kitchen. Is wine the answer? Probably not, but you don’t even try to persuade yourself to not to, as a bottle of wine is already in your hand. It doesn’t take long to pop it open and fill a glass. 

The bitter flavor of the velvet liquid hits your tongue. As it slides down your throat, a sigh escapes your mouth. Another mouthful gulp and you want to scream.

Fuck!

Flip is getting married tomorrow and you still can't believe that's really going to happen. A year ago he was sitting on the same chair you are right now, a wide smile on his lips while you both enjoyed a warm meal. Ten months ago, you broke up over the stupidest thing ever. The frustration built up and you both said something you regretted. _We aren't working out anymore._

Another glass of wine. Another memory. Eight months ago Flip introduced Nicole to your group of friends as his girlfriend while you were having your monthly dinner at Ron's. You can still feel the angst in the pit of your stomach when those words left his perfect lips. _This is Nicole, my girlfriend._

Once again, your glass is found empty and you refill it as the bitter images pass through your mind. 

Six months ago, Flip and Nicole announced they were getting married. Your stomach twitched on the spot. You couldn't even finish your dinner that night and went home crying, only to drown yourself in wine while you choked on your own tears. 

Your misery has only grown bigger since that unfortunate night. A dry laugh escapes your throat. This is the destiny you are doomed to. But you are a big girl, you can bear to see the man your heart still beats for getting married to someone that's not you. Right?

Yeah sure. That would have been true if you weren't getting completely wasted alone just to pity yourself and your misery of a life.

The house is drowned in a deep silence, making you feel even more lonely. You take a sip, your gaze falling on the bottle. It's Flip's favourite red wine. You still buy it out of habit. You tell yourself you just do it cause you really like the wine and won't stop drinking it because of him. When in reality, you know damn well you buy for the sake of the _good old days_ and the nostalgia it brings you. Just another attempt to keep you sane.

Is it working?Well, it doesn't look like it, does it?

You try to fool yourself, but you're awful at it and you roam around, your gaze jumping around and finding lost memories on random objects. 

Just like the ashtray sat on the middle of the coffee table. Months ago it would always be full of ashes and cigarette butts. Now it's just empty. Just like you.

Look what you became. A vessel without any will or any emotion. Empty as the only thing that brought you something, that shook your little world is nowhere to be seen. 

So unfortunate. So sad. So bitter. 

You can almost hear him, although he's so far away. Can you reach him? Oh you wish you could. One last kiss, one last touch. The feeling of his skin against yours, his delicious scent invading your senses. You wish. 

You wish you just could receive one those warm memories you hold so close to your heart like your life depends on it. Just one of them. Maybe the memory of your first date when he took you out of dinner and you spent the night laughing at his funny cop stories. Or maybe that one where you just drove around and listened to music while singing along to your favourite songs. Just one. 

He calls for your name. You can hear him. Your imagination and the mind you're losing really getting the best of you. Maybe the wine wasn't really the best option as you're wearing things that are definitely **not** there. There it is again. Soft and sweet like his lips, even though they don't taste anything alike. You almost can feel it in the tip of your tongue.

Unless…?

You hear his voice, your eyes falling on the front door. Desperate knocks following after. Your name mixed with them. Maybe you're not imagining it all along. Maybe, _just_ _maybe_ , he really is outside that door calling out for you. Hopeless to see you, you feel _you_ , just as much as you are.

Setting the wine glass on a shelf to your right, you walk to the door with cautious steps. The fear of being just your hopeless imagination making you hear his pleads drowning you. 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and you open the door. It takes you a moment to process the sight in front of you, as you're still unsure if it's just a figment of your imagination or not. 

There he stands. Sad eyes and heavy breathing. His posture is so different from what it usually is. He looks out of his mind, but you can tell he's just drunk. You know him that well. The way he calls your name also tells you that. 

Your eyes never leave his as you bite down your bottom lip. Your heart hammering against your ribcage and your ears mute every sound around you. 

What are you supposed to do? What are you supposed to _feel_? Does he enjoy playing with you and your feelings like this? Showing up like this at your door, especially tonight. 

This is also not the first time Flip has shown up to your doorstep pissed drunk and desperate for something only _you_ can give him. 

He would show up late at night when the streets where the darkest, and no-one was around. His knocks would be soft, but hard enough for you to hear as you laid awake on your bed. He would kiss you once you opened the door, hungry and eager while you felt the same. Starved for his touch. So harsh he would be, not sparing a heartbeat to make your legs shake and your hips buck. Soul weak as he would spray your body with kisses. Teeth grazing your clit and hands massaging your pussy lips. At the end, blessing you with stars above your head, jelly limbs and a cunt full of hot cum. 

The worst was the after. When his warmth would vanish, your sheets getting cold with his abstense and the void inside your chest swallowing you. The emptiness being too much to cope and the only way to fill it up was miserable nights at the bar, flirting with random men. But none of them got the job done. They aren't _him_.

Is he doing this again? Are you doing this again? On the day before _his_ _wedding_? Pathetic. You both are. 

"What are you doing here?" Your voice is sober as you try to control yourself and your unstable emotions. This is not going well as you feel your hands shake and your breathing swallows. 

His eyes shine as they never leave your own. They are red and swollen, almost as if he's been crying. Maybe he has, but that's pretty impossible. 

_Flip does not cry_. Tough guy, hard to impress, complicated to please, confusing to read. The biggest challenge of your life, but it always seemed so easy when you were together.

"I needed to see you." That's his answer. That was always his answer every time he would appear with no further notice. Always those same five words accompanied by an open mouth kiss. 

Not helping but to frown at him, you bite down on your lip harder, trying to feel something but the anxiety growing inside your weak chest. 

"Flip." As his name leaves your lips, yours leave his and his eyes soften. Your heart aches and your bottom lip quivers as your teeth release it. 

The amber you see, brings so many memories, so many untold stories, so many things you both had yet to live but didn't get the opportunity to. 

These nights, when Flip shows up at your door, are like watching your favourite movie expecting a different ending. You know the ending, you've seen it countless times, but you always wish to see something different. Something happier, something fresher and something specially _warmer_.

You really are a fool. You are a fucking fool for seeing him stepping closer but not backing away. A fool for feeling his lips against yours and not pushing him off. A fool for kissing back just harder and pulling him even closer. 

_It's the wine_ , you tell yourself as reassurance that you're not that much of an idiot. _It's the wine_ , you repeat as his hands are already under your nightgown but you haven't moved away from the door. _It's the wine_ , but fucking hell, you know damn hell it's not the fucking wine. You're just a damn fool for doing this once again. 

But even though you know you're an idiot sandwich, his lips against yours feel like no-one else. The whiskey and the smoke on his tongue so familiar, fluttering your stomach and making your head dizzy. 

His body launches forward, making you step back, the kiss never breaking apart and you hear the front door shut. 

Hands all over you it's overwhelming but you love every sensation they make you feel. Your ass is pressed against the back of the couch and his lips leave your own, going straight to your jaw. 

He's intoxicating. Lips bitter, tongue tasting like cigarettes and whiskey. His velvet voice whispering in your ear all the wrong things he's going to do that will make you feel so good.

Your heart hammers against your ribcage in a way that you feel it in your eardrums. The wine goes up to your head as you can feel the effect of his touch in between your legs.

Hot skin as your body aches for him. You need it.

You know you are both out of your right minds. This has everything to deliver a chest full of regret the next morning as your head will ache from dehydration.

"This is wrong." A gasp escapes your lips as his own leave a tender kiss on your exposed neck.

"But I'll make it feel so good, babygirl."

His words attack you fully on the spot. You're weak and he knew the right thing to say. He knows you can't say no to him. He knows he's your weakness. Just like you are his own.

Mind clogged as little whimpers go past your parted lips. His mouth continues its assault and you can't help but look for the buttons of his flannel, ready to discard it.

Two more seconds and his flannel is on the floor of your living room, in the next two it's your nightgown as the eagerness grows in the pit of your stomach and the hunger for one another rises from the shadows.

His dark eyes full of lust study your half naked body for a second. Your breasts look so pretty and welcoming his mouth. Your smooth skin begging to be touched as your chest rises up with your shallow breaths. Such a pretty sight.

"We can't." You manage to choke out. Your voice saying something and your body saying another. For much wrong it is, from much you know you shouldn't, your needs, heart and body speak louder. It's impossible to deny it when he attacks your body so brutally. How can you say no? 

So, when he mumbles against your hot skin a _just this one more time_ , you just agree with hopeless nods and he doesn't spare a breath to pick you up and walk to your bedroom. Flip doesn't even need to look to know where he's going for. 

You are thrown on the bed and at this point you're just so ready for him. When you think he's going to hover you and just not waste any more minute, you see him open the door of your little closet. He does with such force the dress hanging from the doorknob almost falls on the floor. Almost as a reminder of what you're doing, of what will happen the following day. You try to ignore it as your eyes find him again.

Flip picks a shoe box and a hand roams through it as the other holds it against his bare chest. You only watch him, curious about what he wants from _there_. 

He used to call it _the fun box,_ or in other words, the box where you keep all the things you'd used to have fun with. Grabbing something from it, he holds it up for you to see. A pair of black leather handcuffs. There's countless memories of when those were put into use and your body aches just thinking about it.

Flip jiggles them with a smirk, "for the sake of the old times," he says. 

Now yes, he hovers you, his knees pressing your thighs together as he holds your hands and guides them up above your head. In no time, your wrists are tied to the headboard.

As his eyes burn into yours, a smirk plays on his lips and two of his fingers are pressed against your bottom lip, pulling it down.

You know way too well what to do, and you don't wait for instructions. Parting your lips, you feel his digits pressing on your tongue. You don't break the eye contact as your lips wrap around his fingers and you suck. 

The smirk on his lips gets wider, "good girl." Even though you're not together anymore, you'll always be his good girl, _Daddy's good girl._

His fingers leave your mouth with a loud pop and before you can know it, your panties are thrown away and his wet fingers are teasing your entrance.

You don't even try to hold back, whimpering at his touch. 

"Always so wet for Daddy." He says. Your hips buck against his fingers and another whimper comes out of your throat. The smirk widens and oh fuck, the things it does to you. "And eager."

"Please." You don't wanna wait much longer. You need him. Or just a bit of him. His dick, his fingers, his tongue. Just something. Some of him. "Please Daddy." The desperation is bold in your voice. So impatient to feel that bliss only him knows how to give. To have him making you cum just once again. All those overwhelming sensations you so much love. The world crushing orgasm only he knows how to give it to you. 

Without saying a word, those two same fingers that were teasing you just a second ago, push into you brutally. 

Your lips open wide and no sound comes out as you arch your back and close your eyes shut. It almost feels impossible to wrap your head around how good his fingers feel inside you, you had almost forgotten how they felt. 

But Flip decides to go beyond, to give you more by attaching his wet lips to your clit. A loud moan echoes through the room the moment his front teeth graze on it. He hums as his assault continues and his fingers move fast, curling up every now and then. 

Maybe it's because you haven't been touched like this for a long time, or maybe it's because his touch feels a hundred times more intense. You're not sure which is the right option, the only thing you do know is how close you are and how the tension in your stomach is building up ready to explode. He can feel it too as your walls clench around him. 

All it takes is a slight additional pressure on your clit from his tongue for you to come undone, coating his fingers with your sweet slick.

Your erratic pants fill his ears deliciously as his fingers go to his mouth and he tastes you on them. The sweetness of your juices rips a groan from his throat and enters your ears like honey. You can't help but feel that warm sensation swirling around on your stomach as you know you're the reason for those luscious sounds. 

A gasp quickly leaves your parted lips as Flip decides to give your pussy some ginger but hungry licks. They quickly disappear and you feel his warm body hovering your shivering one. 

Slowly opening your eye, you find his amber ones staring back at you. Shiny nose and wet lips from your slick. His lips meet yours, making you taste yourself in them as the kiss gets deeper and hungrier and you're greedy. Greedy for more of him.

Oh, how you wish you could just run your fingers through his hair, pull on it and keep him close to you. Your eager and greedy hands try to reach him, but with zero luck, gaining a chuckle from the man as he notices your efforts. 

His tender lips brush on your skin, wetting the hot flesh on their awake. Tongue pressing every now and then, just worshiping you. His hands not being left behind, touching your sensitive spots, _feeling you_ reacting to his touch.

As you _feel him_ , squirm under him, give yourself to him, you understand this is more just drunk and hungry sex full of eagerness and lust. This is much more than that. 

It almost feels like a goodbye. He's kissing you goodbye as his lips travel down your body. Your mind wanders around the sad conclusion, but it sounds disappears as his touch and lips is all you focus on.

The lack of his touch makes your eyes open and you see him by the bed, getting rid of the rest of his clothes, and in no time, Flip is hovering you once again, ready to give you what he came here for. 

One, two, three more kisses on the lips, and he's balls deep inside you as you both groan loud and clear at the feeling. _So fucking good_. Out of this world the way his cock just scratches your walls blissfully, making you forget about everything and anything.

The way you two just fit better than two jigsaw puzzle pieces, made for one another. In any other aspects than just pure sex. But in bed, it has always been the place where that is shown in the best way. 

Pure and raw. You understand each other like no other can, you feel each other differently, with a marvelous intensity that just the two of you have. The chemistry off the charts. 

Maybe this is just what happens when two people love each other so deeply that just a single stroke can trigger a catalogue of countless feelings and sensations that are too hard to explain and describe. You need to feel it. Any other way you can't know it.

You arch your back and your hips lift to meet his. But oh no, that's definitely not what's on his plans and he holds them, pinning them down into the mattress, fingers digging deep and leaving a mark for sure.

Grunts and the intense movements of his hips are like a bliss. His mouth uttering nonsense that you wish it was actually true. 

His words scratch your core, stabbing your heart and ripping your soul. The air gets hard to reach your lungs and it's not because he has a hand wrapped around your neck. No, this time it's not that, but you actually wish it was the reason and not his words. 

"I desire you every second that passes." He tells you breathless. The words affect you and not just physically, but push you over the edge also emotionally. "You're mine." You don't wanna look at him but you can't help it, seeing his hair falling down his face and his eye shining. Beautiful. And where is the goddamn lie in his statement? He's right, you're his and you'll never stop being his even though he's about to get married and even if you find someone else. You belong to Flip. Your heart belongs to him. "Fucking hell, Peaches." The nickname he gave you the very first time you met him being cut short with a grunt. It always had a special effect on you, bringing you so back to when everything was easy. "I love you so fucking much." The timing of those words just punches you differently as he hits your sweet spot and a gasp leaves your mouth when you arch your back. 

The tears reach your eyes, the whole experience just overwhelming as you are attacked physically with pleasure and emotionally with sweet words that you wish they had some actual meaning behind them. You wish it wasn't just the heat of the moment mixed with the alcohol talking. 

"I love," you pause to take a breath, the tears set free and the tension building up with each stroke, "you too." A moan and a long breath. "More," you close your eyes again, another moan set free and you can feel it in your fingertips, "than you can ever imagine." The words come out rapidly, under short breaths and quick moans, making it barely comprehensible. 

His hips never stop or slow down. Taking you both there, where you should be, where you need to be. But also dragging it the best he can. Once you both reach it the whole fantasy is over. 

The explosion of sensations reach you both almost in synchronisation. You first, clenching your walls around him so deliciously, just like you always do. Then him, a moan escaping his lips and his throbbing cock filling you up with his hot shot. 

The world slows down with him as it takes you awhile to come back from or post-orgasm bliss. Your body numb and head dizzy. The warmth from his body taking over yours, the moment his forehead rests on your shoulder and his chest is pressed against yours.

You just stay there a moment longer, lingering on the feeling that's about to vanish. And you don't want it to ever go away but you can already feel it slip through your fingers as he rolls out of you. 

Both of your breathing are heavy as the two of you stare at the ceiling. You try to collect your thoughts about what just happened, your stomach dropping and twitching as his cum starts running down your thigh. The regret is already rising, and you can't help but still feel one last tear stream down your flushed cheek. 

Not sparing a moment after Flip sets your wrist free, you clean up your tears and get up from the bed, really trying your best not to fall as your legs are still weak.

"You should go now." Your voice shaky and almost cracking at the end as you speak, back turned to him. In quick movements, you find your satin rosé robe and wrap yourself with it, almost in shame and still too scared to face him. 

Hearing some shuffling behind you, you dare to peek, finding Flip already with his boxers and jeans on, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

His piercing eyes stare back at yours and all of the sudden everything is just too much. Emotional wrecking really, as you already feel the coldness his visits always leave behind. Why did you do this to yourself again? 

It has a price to pay, always, and you're already paying. 

His eyes leave yours and maybe accidentally they land on the blue dress that still hangs from your closet knob. 

"It's pretty," he says, "the dress." To which you only nod. "You're dressing it tomorrow?" 

At this point you're fully turned to him, facing him with pain on your face, ache in your heart and arms crossed over your chest protectively. 

You nod again and he sighs. "Do you mean it?" This time it's your gaze that's intense into his eyes. "All those words." It's his turn to not say anything and only nod. "Why don't you just call the wedding off, Flip?" You have a bit of hope as you sit down beside him on the bed. 

Is there still hope for you two? Will this movie have a different ending this time? Will you finally have the happy ending you so much deserve? Will you be left with warmth instead of coldness and loneliness tonight? 

The bit of hope that was rapidly growing inside you, is completely crushed in a heartbeat with the words that pass by his lips. 

"I can't." 

It makes your body rigid and indignation is strong in your features. The whole situation is confusing but very clear what was happening. You two are doomed. You both had your opportunity and it has expired long ago.

There's no hope for you both anymore and this really is a goodbye kiss. A last wild adventure for you two to share, _for the sake of the old days_. Those old days that were the best of your life, and that you wish they were his best as well. 

Flip from now one will become a memory, but you don't want that. You're not ready to let go of him just yet. But the truth is that he has become one long ago, you were just too stubborn to accept that. 

You really are nothing more but _the other woman_ when just ten months ago you were **_the woman_**.

But still not happy with all the sorrow and heartbreak you're starting to drown in, you push it. "What do you mean you can't?" 

"You know way too well I can't, _Peaches_." 

No. No, no, no, no. Oh hell no. He can't just do that to do you. Play you like you're some toy for him to throw away when he had his little fun. You're even worse than him for letting him do it so easily, you didn't even try to fight it back when an hour ago he showed up at your door.

In a second you jump off the bed ,trying to get away from him. It's starting to be suffocating. 

"Oh but you can just show up on my door in the night before your fucking wedding, fuck me, telling me all those things and then pretend like it was nothing!" Loud and powerful but weakening as it goes, cracking at the very last word. The lump on your throat grows as the tears form on your shiny eyes. "That's not fucking fair Phillip." 

Without saying a word, he just stares back at you. He even has the audacity to say nothing. He knows you're right. He's just a coward. A sigh leaves his lips as he starts putting on his boots silently. 

"You really should go." You press, really wishing he was already gone so you could just break into million pieces on the cold floor of your room with your body weak and thighs wet with his cum. 

He nods at your persistence and gets up, walking straight to the door, not losing another second. Although, it takes you a moment to follow him and once you step outside your bedroom into the living room, you see him buttoning up his flannel that was once left forgotten on the floor. 

You just watch him from your bedroom's door as he gets himself together. 

Flip looks at you, running a hand through his hair. You can't take this anymore and walk to the front door, opening it for him. The sooner he leaves, the better.

In the meanwhile no words are shared although they tickle your throat to come out. But you are not even sure what they are, so you keep quiet, just like he does for a moment. 

Stepping outside your apartment, he looks back at you one last time. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I already bought the dress, didn't I?" Your smart remark gets a soft chuckle from him and you wish it didn't.

"Right." God, why is he dragging this? Is it not painful enough? He probably doesn't feel his heart breaking like yours. Insensitive prick. "See you tomorrow." You don't say it back, just closing the door in his face 

Fuck him and good manners. You're too broken for that. 

Your weak legs finally give up on you and you fall to the floor, breaking in tears and you feel your soul being ripped out of your body and your heart shattering. 

There's no going back now. Here you have the proof you needed to realise you lost him forever, and tomorrow will just make it official.

Flip Zimmerman is no longer yours, but every single piece of you still belongs to him.

Even your heartbeat. 


	2. Toca-me [Touch me]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought we had talked about this." You mumble against his lips.
> 
> "One last time." That’s his answer, just like any other times. It’s always _one more time_. When will this end? When will this _one more time_ be the last time?
> 
> "That was yesterday."
> 
> "Shut up," Flip kisses you again, this time it's hungrier, needier. So sloppy as if the world is going to end. It does feel like it, but the feeling completely fades as you get lost in him. His body completely pressed against yours, sandwiching you against the wall. Your hot skin shivers against the cold tiles and you feel his hardening cock on your stomach. The thought of it making your legs tremble and your pussy throb. Is it wrong to wish a married man's dick inside you? Yes of course, even worse is kissing him.

**Flip Zimmerman // one shot  
** **Toca-me [Touch me]**

The headache increases as the clock ticks, the Advil you took for breakfast having no impact to cease the throbbing inside your head. As you try to push it to the side, your mind remembers the regret that pooled in your stomach as your eyes landed on the empty wine bottle on the floor along with last night’s events. 

People chat around you, loudly, but you manage to mute them as your mind throws painful scenes at you as an act of petty. The pain clutches in your chest and you’re not sure what’s more unbearable, your throbbing head or your aching heart. 

Your skin burns where he touched, a shiver runs down your spine and a lump grows in your throat. There’s really nothing you can do but accept the bitter feeling stabbing your chest and how there’s nothing you can do about it. This is really all you can do, accept it, face it like the strong woman you are and let the past die. 

Was it good? Fucking hell, it was beyond amazing, but that is buried in the past and you can’t hang on those memories forever. That’s all they are, memories. No matter how good they are, they won’t help you move forward with your life. You can’t keep living in the past. 

“You ok?” You hear Ron’s voice hushed into a whisper, bringing you back to reality and your surroundings hit you. You’re at Flip’s wedding, sat beside Ron. The ceremony hasn’t started yet for what you can capture, but an uncomfortable feeling invades you. 

Your response to his question is reduced to a nod, the lump in your throat not allowing you from giving him a verbal answer. By the look on his face, you know he’s not really convinced by it, you throw your next move in your list of  _ signs to show I’m fine when in reality I wish God was merciful enough to end my doomed existence.  _ A small smile is sent in Ron’s way and he shakes his head in disapproval. His hand finds yours and he gives it a conforming squeeze. 

Ron has been your only emotional support with this whole  _ Flip thing _ . He was just as shocked as you were when your ex-boyfriend announced he was dating and later on, engaged. The man took your side a hundred percent, even being the partner and best friend of the groom. He didn’t understand Flip’s reckless decision of shooting himself headfirst into a wedding with someone he knew for what, four months? 

It doesn’t make sense in the detective’s head how two people who love each other so much ended up like this. Ron knows the feeling still runs wild free in Flip’s veins just as much as they run in yours. And he just can’t imagine what is going through Flip’s mind to not only date, but  _ marry  _ someone he doesn’t love. He’s pretty sure Flip doesn't love Nicole, or at least not in the vivid way he still loves you. It’s written all over his face, especially in the discomfort and ache that his eyes show every time your name is mentioned in a conversation. 

But does it matter? Right now, it doesn’t as he’s just a few minutes away from getting married. 

Your smile at him is small, not reaching your eyes as the corner of your lips curl up so slightly, almost hard to miss as Ron sends you a sympathetic one. You’re grateful for his support. 

Soon the ceremony starts and suddenly, your heart is pounding against your ribcage. You don’t even notice you’re still clutching onto Ron’s hand, squeezing it in a tight grip and you hold your breath. 

Envy grows and your eyes land on Nicole. She looks beautiful and the radiant smile on her lips makes your stomach drop. Even after all the pep talk this morning, the whole  _ you’re strong and you’re over him  _ fading in thin hair as your eyes catch a glimpse of Flip. 

He’s glowing. His hair neatly combed, chocolate waves cascading down, nearly touching his broad shoulders. Black tuxedo and a black bow tie with a nice white button up shirt underneath. You can’t deny the fact he looks great, handsome really. There’s a certain shine to his amber eyes, even though you catch a dull moment as your gazes cross paths. 

Quickly looking away, you try to ignore the way something grasped your heart tightly, enough for a sharp pain to cross your chest as you let go of the breath you were still holding. 

The Jewish traditions keep going and the ceremony proceeds, but you don’t really pay attention to anything that is happening around you. You just sit on your chair, a vacant look on your pretty face as your hands ball up in clenched fists, your nails craving half moons into your palms. 

Does he look happy? You can't tell as your mind focuses on other things than  _ The Walk to the Chuppah _ that’s happening right now. 

It goes back to last night once again and you really can’t help it. Your eyes watching Nicole starting to recite her vows, holding his hands as the words he told you last night play in your head. 

_ I desire you every second that passes. _

But he’s still holding another woman’s hands instead of yours as she utters her  _ undying love  _ for him. Her voice completely muted as you remember the burning sensation his lips left on your shivering skin. The memory of his hands gripping and manhandling your body is still so fresh. 

_ You're mine. _

Your breath hitches on the back of your throat, your fists loosening up and your palms rubbing along your thighs. His voice vivid in your head, just like he was whispering in your ear. But he’s not. 

Flip is a large couple of meters away from you, what you assume to be a happy smile on his face as he starts saying his vows. Automatically, you mute his voice, and your mind keeps wandering around his hands on you, his face inches from yours as he thrusted with no mercy into you. 

Your body heats up at the thought of it. That’s his affect on you and you feel pathetic. You’re not eighteen anymore and you should know better how to control yourself. 

_ Fucking hell, Peaches.  _

Yeah, fucking hell, you can’t belive your eyes. Everything feels like a fever dream, nothing feels real. Especially the sight in front of you after what you just lived last night. 

_ I love you so fucking much.  _

Right. Is that why he’s saying something so alike to another woman? So fucking ironic. How could he do this? You really don’t want to put the blame on him, you don’t want him to be the bad guy of this story, but maybe he really is the villain. 

In the end of the day, he was the one who gave up on you both when you begged for him to stay. He’s the one who told you he loved you  _ oh so fucking much  _ but still eneded getting married to another woman. 

The  _ Circling  _ starts and you can’t help yourself but chuckle at the irony of it, watching Nicloe circling around Flip. In the Ashkenazi tradition, the bride traditionally circles around her groom either three or seven times under the chuppah. Some people believe this is to create a magical wall of protection from evil spirits, temptation, and the glances of other women. Others believe the bride is symbolically creating a new family circle.

_ Create a magical wall of protection?  _ Well, maybe Nicole should've done that way earlier, so perhaps her fiance wouldn’t have wandered around wasted and ended up in his ex-girlfriend's bed, in between her legs and screaming that he loved her. Maybe that wouldn’t have happened. It would be way better for everyone’s sake.

The whole ceremony starts being overwhelming when the Ring Exchange starts and you see the silver, shining jewel around his finger. Your emotions must have been shown at that moment the ring slides up his thigh finger, as Ron's hand reaches yours once again. Just a reminder he’s there for you if you need him. 

The rest of the ceremony goes by and you just stop paying attention to it. You can’t focus on anything around anymore. 

Not even knowing what’s happening, nor even caring at this point, you inform Ron you’re going to do a quick trip to the restrooms and you’ll be back soon. 

“You sure you’re ok?” He asks, before letting go off your hand. “We can leave if you want.”

“I am.” You send him a resurrecting smile. “And don’t worry, we don’t need to leave. At the end of the day, he’s still  _ your best friend.  _ I wouldn’t want you to miss his wedding just because of me.”

“A big ass shit show, that’s what this is.” He mumbles, but you pretend you don’t hear it. 

“I’ll be right back.” You force yet another smile and he nods at you. 

Making your way to the restrooms, your mind disperses once again. You really want to leave though. This being way more painful than you counted to be. Your lungs are heavy and your limbs hurt as a weird pain crawls up to your chest. 

There’s still an unanswered question that ghosts around your clogged mind. Why were you invited in the first place? It was Nicole who handed you the invitation with a glowing smile. She knew you were his ex-girlfriend, and you hated her face of joy as she said  _ Flip and I would love to have you at our wedding.  _ What a fucking bitch. She knew what she was doing and she was enjoying every second of it, devouring it with a smirk you’ll never forget. 

You shouldn’t have come. Who told you it was a good idea to come? You wanted to appear strong, but you're far from it. And that's why you’re walking to the restroom right now, to hide from the world and how tiny and shity you’re feeling. 

Or at least, that’s what you’re trying to do as hand grips your bicep firmly. A gasp escapes you in surprise and you look up, your eyes widening as they find Flip.

You’re in such a state of shock, that you don’t even notice you’re being dragged inside the restroom. Alarming sirens echo and red lights blink inside your head. As you try to wrap your head around what’s happening, Flip opens the door and shoves you inside.

The door is closed and a faint click is heard. 

“What the-” Your sentence cut short with his lips smashed against you. No, this can’t be happening right now. Your back hits the wall forcefully, your head dizzy at the impact and you groan into his mouth. “Flip.” your attempt to call him into reason is swallowed by his tongue, your lips still against his.

“Shut up.” He mumbles before kissing you again, melting you in his lips and warm touch as his hands secure your waist. Your own arms wrapping around his neck out of habit. 

His lips hungry, his hands needy and exploring your body, knowing exactly where to touch. One of them not losing time to travel up, leaving your waist and wrap around your neck and the other going down, gripping your ass hard. 

You moan into his mouth at the new sensations. Only him can make you feel like this and the same goes to him. Only you can make him feel this good. 

"I thought we had talked about this." You mumble against his lips.

"One last time." That’s his answer, just like any other times. It’s always  _ one more time.  _ When will this end? When will this  _ one more time _ be the last time?

"That was yesterday."

"Shut up," Flip kisses you again, this time it's hungrier, needier. So sloppy as if the world is going to end. It does feel like it, but the feeling completely fades as you get lost in him. His body completely pressed against yours, sandwiching you against the wall. Your hot skin shivers against the cold tiles and you feel his hardening cock on your stomach. The thought of it making your legs tremble and your pussy throb. Is it wrong to wish a married man's dick inside you? Yes of course, even worse is kissing him. "Shut up," he repeats, even though you said nothing, as if he just read your thoughts. The kiss breaks apart completely, a rope of saliva connecting your lips for a moment longer. Your gazes meet and you feel out of breath, his amber eyes really dull and vacant, but you can't ignore a bit of shine they carry as he stares back at you. Quickly, he cuts the staring contest short, turning you around. Pressing your cheek to the cold tiled wall, he finally finishes his sentence, "and take my cock." The words barely make it out through his gritted teeth and he takes no time to work his hands in you. 

Your dress is pulled up and your panties pulled down in a matter of seconds. You don't even have time to wait in anticipation. The time is running out and Flip doesn't want to waste one more second, so, the next moment he slams into you, giving you no time to breath. 

A groan is ripped off both of your throats. " _ Fuck. _ " He drags out. "Pussy always so wet for me, it swallowed my cock with zero effort." 

His hips snap against yours forcefully, no mercy. No time to adjust as he thrusts into you ruthlessly, his pace fast, sparing no moment to breathe. 

You moan and he grunts, his hands on your hips to adjust your position to his liking. Your neck hurts with the way you're pressed against the wall, but that's completely forgotten and melted between his reckless pounding into you. Your body giving up to the overwhelming pleasure he's giving you. 

His hands feel like fire on you, his  _ touch so rough _ and breathtaking. Finger deep in your hips, to contradict his  _ tender touch _ on your exposed back, fingertips running up your spine. That hand meets your head and he grips your hair tightly, you clenching your pussy around him as an automatic reaction.

"Good girl," he groans breathlessly, "such a good girl for me " His grip on both your hair and hip tightens and you moan at the feeling. "Taking my cock so well."

"Taking your cock like your wife can't." You say, getting a spank for your smart ass comment, but you enjoy it. The sting on your ass cheek sends shockwaves through your body, directly to your core. "Please, do it again." You beg shamelessly, the need to feel more of him, more of his  _ touch _ on you being bigger than yourself, your dignity and your decency. 

Your words get a deep chuckle from him. A hot fucking chuckle that comes from his throat. "You like it, don't you, you whore?" Another smack on your ass and he pulls your head back by your head. "When I spank you," another one as you try to suppress your moan by biting down your bottom lip, "and treat you like the nasty, greedy whore you are." 

"Yes," you cry out, muffling it into a whimper, "I do, Daddy," you know you can't be loud but how can you not when he's fucking you this good? "So much." The whine is low and so pathetic, just getting another chuckle from him. 

"Yes, you do." He doesn't control himself, spanking your already-red ass cheek, loving way too much how your ass jiggles under his touch. 

"And you like it too, don't you Daddy?" You can't help but show him a teasing smirk. "You like how my cunt clenched around your cock every time you spank me." 

"Shut up and cum on my cock like the whore you are." The sound of his hand landing flat and with force on your ass mixes with his groan. You try your best to keep your own moans and whimpers at bay, the idea of getting caught biting in the back of your mind. 

His pace never ceases, only increases if possible and your orgasm is peeking in the corner, just so close you almost can feel it grazing your fingertips and toes. 

"Cum for me." His words are repeated, this time closer to your ear as he pulls your hair and his chest presses against your back. The sticky feeling sending shivers down your body. 

The hand that was once smacking your ass, runs to your front and his fingertips find your clit. Digits press hard against your bundle of nerves and a shaky, breathless moan slips past your parted lips. "C'mon, cum around my cock, I know you want to." 

The fast circles that are rubbed on your clit as he presses his fingers hard on it, mixed with his frenetic pace, words and tight grip on your hair, is all it takes to make your throbbing cunt clamp around his dick. Your sweet cum coats his length as his hips never stop. It twitches inside you as Flip reaches his own orgasm and his hot shot fills you up.

His forehead rests on your shoulder as you both pant, bodies immovable and his dick still buried in your cunt.

"She doesn't make you cum this hard, does she daddy?" You chant with a smirk. 

" _ Fuck _ ." he grunts, pulling out of you, his hands leaving you body and a cold feeling nestles on your skin. "She doesn't." The confession comes out with a weak voice, a hint of shame to his tone. How bad is it saying out loud that your own wife doesn't make you cum as hard as your ex?

As you turn around, you see Flip already tugging his dick back into his pants and getting his posture back together. Your heart swells as your senses come back to reality.  _ Right.  _

The trail of cum sliding down your thigh slowly, as a reminder of what  _ you both did.  _ The regret increases on your stomach, swallowing you as a whole while you just stand there, freezed, feet glued to the dirty tiled floor.

Flip grabs a couple paper towels, damping them before handing them to you to clean yourself up. You chuckle at the irony of the situation, accepting his gesture. Even in situations like these, he can be affectionate. 

It doesn’t take long for you to clean the remains of his cum and put yourself together, panties in place and your dress pulled down straight and hugging your curves. After throwing the dirty paper towel in the trash can, you walk to him in slow steps. 

Amber eyes follow your every move, studying you carefully with soft eyes. Something in your chest hurts and you swallow the lump that formed in your throat just minutes ago. 

You look up at him. "You should have thought about that before you said I do." You pat his chest and he just looks down, his expression showing confusion that quickly dissolves as the realisation of what you’re talking about hits him. Flip doesn’t say a word, an intense gaze on you.

This is it. It has stop stop and you’re putting it to an end. For much it hurts, this is the right decision. He’s married now and you two can’t keep playing this harsh and childish game. It can’t keep going. The far it goes, the worse it gets. It will keep hurting many more people besides you two. Even though you don’t know if he’s affected by this,  _ you  _ are. It affects and hurts you to the point of exhaustion. You’re exhausted. 

You don’t want to keep crying every night. You don’t want this invisible grip to clutch your heart tightly everytime you see him or every time he leaves you like he always does. 

It’s time for  _ you to leave.  _ To move on, have a life where he doesn’t take part. A life where you can be happy again even without him. He made his choice when he compromised himself to a life beside Nicole, his  _ wife.  _ Now it’s your turn to make your choice. To grasp life by the horns and move directions. Follow a path where Flip is not on the finish line, to write a story where he’s not a character. 

You made your choice, and this is it.

"This was the last time.” Your voice almost betrays you and you have to fight back the lump in your throat that just keeps getting bigger. “Being the other woman was fun,” after a pause, you take a deep breath, “but I deserve to be more than that.” You can do it. For much it hurts, you can do it. You spit out the truth you’ve been too stubborn to accept. “I deserve to be more than a fuck when you can't stand your wife." 

You walk to the door and open it after unlocking it. There’s this certain relief absorbing you, but you can’t deny the tears forming on your eyes and how your chest feels tight. But you keep fighting. You can do this. 

Before leaving, you look back one last time. "Have a nice life Flip. Oh, and congrats." Your voice is cold, showing no emotion even with your chest wanting to burst and your mind racing in different directions. Flip doesn’t dare to say a word, but his eyes leave yours. 

And just like that, you leave him standing in the restroom regretting his whole life choices. 

Too bad, he made his, and you made yours. 


	3. Deseja-me [Desire me]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He slows down, his pants erratic and you try to catch your breath. His forehead rests on your shoulder, and he doesn't pull out of you just yet. He just needs this moment with you. Sweaty bodies pressed against one another, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as your own around his neck, one of your hands caressing his hair. 
> 
> You try to shake the feeling growing inside you, but it quickly overtakes you. As the warmth of his body is still engulfing your own, you can already start feeling the cold it will leave once he goes back to his wife. Yes, it hits you hard. Once again you let yourself be guided by impulses that only bring your regret and hurt. This man it’s not yours and soon he’ll leave. **Again**. How could you be so stupid? You promised yourself you wouldn’t let yourself go his dark path again, but here you are.

**Flip Zimmerman // one shot  
** **Deseja-me [Desire me]**

It was a nice day. Perfect, even. You had no plans, no work. Just you and yourself. The day was just going smoothly. You had your chinese take out for lunch, which was amazing, and you did nothing but listen to your favourite record and read. Yes, your ideal day for a day off from work. 

Everything was going perfectly, just how you intended it to be. The book, so thrilling and immersing. You were so close to find out who the killer is, but the next thing you know, you’re naked, sitting on your dining table with Flip’s head buried in between your legs. 

It just really happened so fast. 

The bell rang, the book was set on the little coffee table and you opened the door. The trip to the door was short, your mind wandering for a second or two who might be disturbing your saturday piece. A gasp left your lips and your breath was stolen with a passionate kiss. His name managed to escape you in the gap between your eyes landing on his tall figure and him taking a step closer, his body meeting yours. One of his hands was quickly to rest on the side of your neck to keep you in place as the other one touched your waist gently. 

Another gasp left your lips into his mouth, the temperature of the room raising and you mind clogged. You couldn’t process what was happening, the only thing on your troubled mind being how good his lips felt against yours and the  _ desire  _ growing inside you. 

Your morals tried to warn you about all the consequences your acts would imply. But everything was just rushing that they quickly melted as his tongue touched yours. 

His arms wrapping around your, bringing your body closer to his, the need to feel every bit of you being way too suffocating. 

How can something so bad feel so good? How can something so wrong feel like the only right thing in the whole world? 

None of you could reason at this point, too lost in one another, the world around vanishing. You wanted to get drunk in his scent and drown in his touch. Neither you or Flip had strength to protest the  _ desire  _ that was growing inside both of you. The need for one another being just way too much, unbearable to support. 

Six months. That’s how long you haven’t seen each other. It has been six month since Flip’s wedding and you haven’t caught a glimpse of his eyes ever since. Until today. 

Your heart hammered against your ribcage in an austoninish speed, loudly so you could feel it in your eardrums,  _ almost _ muting everything around you two. Although, you could still hear his short breath that he would take in the slightly non-existence breaks between your open-mouth kisses and your steps, alonging the distance between you and the front door that Flip had already closed shut with the heel of his foot. 

His hands worked on you, so needy to feel every inch of you, messingly trying to get rid of your shirt and your own tried so bad to get off that dark blue sweater you so much adore. 

Clothes started disappearing between lustful kisses as the room temperature started to rise in an explainable way. Shaky legs and an unsteady breathing showing how worked up you already were, ready for him. Ready for him to devour you. 

Nothing mattered in the moment the man placed you on the dining table, fully naked. His hands rested on your knees gently, his touch so tender, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin burned with desire and ache, as he slowly spread your legs giving him his favourite view, lustful glowing eyes drinking you up just for a moment longer. But he really couldn’t wait, he just needed to devour you. His gaze never left your dripping cunt as he kneeled in front of you, his hand firmly gripping softly your knees. 

Holding your breath in anticipation, you watched his every move. But quickly your eyes closed, your back arched and your hands went straight to his head, your pretty little body so responsive to his assault. 

That’s how you got yourself sat on your dining table, fully nacked with Flip kneeled in front of you and his tongue deep in your cunt as his nose rubbed on your clit every now and then. 

Chest tight and unsteady breathing. You even forget how to breathe as you moan and grip tightly on his hair, pulling him closer. His soft tongue having no mercy, licking and taking every bit of slick you’re giving, his mouth making slupery erotic sounds blending with your loud moans. You don’t hold back, you’ve been so touch starved that something just makes you loud and needy, desperate to cum on his tongue. Although, at the same time it doesn’t feel enough as your greedy cunt begs for something more. The wish of wanting to grind your hips forcefully against his face as you hold his head in place running through your veins. 

Flip doesn’t contain himself either, moaning and humming against your throbbing pussy as he feels his jeans tightening on his crotch. You make him feel alive. His tongue dances on your folds and he hums along. The sweet taste of your candy-like pussy just makes him want you even more. 

"I missed you so much." He mumbles against your cunt. The feeling is beyond amazing.

Another moan escapes your lips, "I missed you too," and you pull on his hair, squirming under his touch, seeking your release as your toes curl up. 

His hands travel up your thighs, his touch like a ghost for how gentle it is as his fingertips tap your skin tenderly. Honey gestures so unlike him and how his mouth moves against your core. 

Knuckles turn white as one of your hands grips the edge of the table, the need for some additional support too big to not obey in order to keep your body steady. Flip can only peek at your appearance from below and how beautiful you look. Flushed cheeks, eyes closed shut and mouth wide open. So, so pretty. And only for him. Only for him to taste, to feel, to see, even though he’s aware how much he doesn't deserve not even an inch of you. 

The tug on his hair gets a groan from his throat, sending shivers up your body as the tension builds up in your stomach, close to exploding. The anticipation of your orgasm adding up as his tongue keeps pushing you closer to the edge. 

As it strikes you, your body jolts, hips bucking up, a moan caught up on your throat and tears form in your eyes. His tongue never stops, taking every bit of your juices that your release onto it, just for him.

Your body nearly collapses back on the table, trying to steady your breaths and a cold sensation washes over you as his hot tongue is not inside you anymore nor his hot breath tickles your clit. 

In a flash move, he gets up again, his eyes staring straight into yours. The shade of amber is so vivid, so different from the last time you saw it. So much brighter and warm. Just like it used to be, the nostalgia hitting you hard. Harder than you wish as you're still trying to get yourself back into reality after your orgasm. But this is your reality right now, Flip. His hands, his touch, his eyes burning on you. Oh so sweet and so breathtaking. So different from the other times. The fire inside you is bigger than ever and you feel like you can conquer the world. If it’s just another sweet pretty ilusion, you’re not sure. But you’re sure how his lips press against yours in a harsh manner, knocking the air out of your lungs in the most sugary way. His tongue on yours as you taste yourself on his lips. 

"I want you." You mumble hungrily against his lips, not being able to hold it anymore, the need for him only grows bigger and the more of him he gives, the more you want. "I want you inside me." Maybe it’s a demand, or just a desperate beg. Either way, you don’t really care, what matters is him giving you what you so much seek for. Longing for the feeling of being full, of your walls being scratched blissfully.

He smirks, him himself not being able to restrain himself from taking you much longer. "If that's what you want," he pushes inside you, not sparing a moment. A moan gets stuck in your throat as you choke out, trying to breathe, the sudden sensation overwhelmingly good, "then that's what you'll get, babygirl." Flip groans at the end, feeling his cock being hugged so welcomingly by your tight cunt. 

Throwing your head back, a loud moan is set free. Your arms quickly snake around his shoulders, pulling him close. His sweaty torso sticking against your flushed chest.

Flip is merciless. He just pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. Moans, groans and skin slapping is all that can be heard. His fingers dig deeply on your hips, leaving a mark for sure and with your arms around his broad shoulders you scratch his back. Your mind is clogged as all your focus is on him and how he’s making you feel. The euphoria is at its peak, growing even bigger and his grip on your hips moves briefly, pulling your ass closer to the edge of the table and slightly changing the position. And now, the tip of his dick presses hard on that sweet little spot that makes you see stars. 

If it’s even possible, Flip thrusts harder and quicker, making you out of breath when all you can do is moan loud and clutch onto him. His face is buried in your neck as he groans against you, biting on the hot skin every now and then. His grip on you is even tighter, as if he’s scared you would go somewhere else, the pressure of his digits digging into your flesh bringing some pain to the mix, going straight to your core. Your own nails do the same on his back, scratching and almost prefurating the skin, but for sure leaving red marks behind. 

That familiar tension builds up again in your stomach and the way your walls clench around his throbbing dick, tells him that you’re close. Noticing that, his pace slows down, getting a frustrated groan from you as you were so, so close to cum once again, really desperate to feel that magical bliss once more. But, even though his pace is slower, it’s deep, making you feel every inch of his huge dick scratching you smoothly. 

On edge, that's how you feel and the tension is ready to explode, but it lacks the last impulse. As a needle presses on a balloon, but not hard enough to make it pop. So agonizing, the expectation of not knowing when it will finally blow up.

He grunts before biting hard on your shoulder and your nails dig on his skin, feeling his pace picking up the speed once again. Your breathing erratic as you’re a mess, left at his mercy to let you cum. You’re right there. The air fails to reach your lungs, your toes curl up and your nails dig harshly on his back. His hot breath hitting your ear and his hand gripping your tightly. 

No words. This time, there's no words between you two. No dirty talking, no disrespectful names that makes you moan louder or his demands that makes your legs quiver. None of you need it anyways as you both cum and moan loud in each other's ear.

He slows down, his pants erratic and you try to catch your breath. His forehead rests on your shoulder, and he doesn't pull out of you just yet. He just needs this moment with you. Sweaty bodies pressed against one another, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as your own around his neck, one of your hands caressing his hair. 

You try to shake the feeling growing inside you, but it quickly overtakes you. As the warmth of his body is still engulfing your own, you can already start feeling the cold it will leave once he goes back to his wife. Yes, it hits you hard. Once again you let yourself be guided by impulses that only bring your regret and hurt. This man it’s not yours and soon he’ll leave.  **Again.** How could you be so stupid? You promised yourself you wouldn’t let yourself go his dark path again, but here you are. 

A lump grows in your throat as your stomach turns over a couple of times. All you want to do is cry while you’re still in his arms. So for once you’re not left in tears in the cold with only your trembling hand to wipe the salty tears away. You can already feel them as that weird itching hits your nose and the lump in your throat intensifies. 

He lifts his head and your gazes meet. He studies you for a moment, damn you're beautiful. He fucked up so bad. He knows that. Why did he think he could ever live a life without you? How dumb and fucking stupid he was. His eyes study you carefully, absorbing your beauty in its entirety, the good memories you both created together surfacing, a reminder of how lucky he was to have you and how stupid he was to let you go. He didn’t just let you go, he  _ pushed  _ you away, over and over. Running after you, taking you for guaranteed, and then throwing you away only for his selfish purposes. A selfish, stubborn coward. That’s what he is. He knows. All that his stubbornness brought was hurt and to you, and him as well, but most importantly, he hurt  _ you. _ The one he swore to protect no matter what, to make a smile appear on your lips in the most absurd situations, to make you happy everyday. And he failed that. He failed miserably and maybe there’s no way he can fix this. That thought inches on his chest and clutches his heart tightly, almost making it hard for him to breath. 

And his breathing does get shallow and you notice that as you look back at him with glossy eyes, ready to set your tears free and break in his arms. The tension between you two growing bigger, words getting caught up on both your throats and you get lost in those honey eyes. His hands slowly drag up to your waist, feeling your skin shivering under his palms and settling on your lower back as he pulls out of you. The empty feeling reminds you of all those other times where you didn’t even get the chance to process what was just happening and he was already leaving. Your eyes never leave his, awaiting for him to pull away, take a step back and start gathering his clothes. It doesn’t happen, he just keeps gazing at you with soft eyes. You’ve seen this expression before, the look on his face is so familiar yet so foreign for being so distant. It really has been a while although you remember everything. It’s like you know it’s there still, it’ just gets a moment to get back to you. Like when you're listening to a song that you recognize and you’re trying to remember its name. It’s right under your tongue but it takes you some large moments of frustration to get it out. 

His next words surprise you, shocking you even, a gasp not failing to pass through your parted lips. "I'm going to divorce her." He says. You don't say anything back, not really knowing what to say. The mix of emotions is confusing and hard to tell what you're feeling right now. You don’t know if you want to cry, or laugh, or smile, or slap him. What are you supposed to feel? You’re just confused. Why now? Why? Why  _ just  _ now? Why did it take him so long? Why did he make you wait? Why did you even wait? You should be mad. But no ounce of rage or hatred ignites inside you. Check that off the list. Are you sad that it took him so long? Are you happy that finally he will be yours? But will he even be yours? Does that statement even mean that he wants you as his again? He just said he was going to divorce, it may mean nothing. 

Your mind races. So many questions popping up at the same time you can’t even process one. You can't even bring yourself to say anything. Your throat is dry, the lump resting on the back of it bigger than ever, the tears getting harder to hold. Everything is so confusing. Your feelings and emotions taking a ride on the wildest roller coaster you’ve ever encountered. It took you long enough to accept that your feelings and the way your emotions were just way off the rack and that you needed to cut it out of your life. They were not healthy. Letting go of these same feelings, turning the mindset of  _ I can be happy without him _ into a reality far from becoming true, but slowly, step by step, you were getting there. Or at least, you were trying to. And now, he just jumps into your life again, proving that all the progress you made in the last six months were all an illusion. No, you weren’t getting better, you were just pretending you were. Because in the end of the day, your heart still aches for him, you  _ still love him  _ with every fiber of your being. 

There’s a little squeeze on your waist, the heat of his palms coming back to your senses as his thumbs caresses your skin. The corners of his pink lips curl up a bit upwards, into a small warming smile. Your heart picks up at the sight. How you missed that, and how you missed the way that smile made you feel. The nostalgia hovering you, its touch giving you goosebumps. 

"You're the one I want,” he speaks up again, his voice so tender, so sweet, “ _ forever _ .” The word hits you like a hurricane. Astonishing how a simple word can have such effect. The connotation behind it, bigger than anything else. Specially that was what he said when you were still together, on that cold night when he held you close, kissed the top of your hair and whispered  _ ‘i wanna hold you in my arms  _ **_forever_ ** _ ’.  _ The memory aches on your chest as you bite down on your lip to feel something else. 

He understands your silence, he doesn’t really expect you to do anything more. Maybe a slap, cause he really deserves that, and not what he has right now, you in his arms. Flip can’t help but melt at the warmth inside of his chest as it gets bigger, his eyes never leaving you. Feeling the need to, he repeats, “I'm going to divorce her,” as a reassurance that it’s really going to happen. It's not bluff or a trick. 

You don't say anything. There's nothing to say. Although there are a thousand questions and in fact there’s things to say, you just don't. You prefer not to, it will ruin the moment, but even if you wanted to, your voice would only betray you. So, seeing you're left out of options, you do the most rational thing that comes in mind. You just kiss him. And he kisses you back just harder. 

Body closer than every, sticking to one another, tongue clashing and lips melting. A whole new experience. Even though you've kissed over a thousand times, this one is different. It feels different. It has hope and a brighter future. 

A future where you both fit together and not in different paths like you believed those months ago. Finally everything is falling into place. The sun seems to shine brighter and the world is all in shades of pink. 

The kiss breaks apart, your face still dangerously close, eyes staring back, melting. His warmth feels like home and the sound of his heartbeat is your favourite melody. His skin under your touch makes you shiver and his own hands don’t stop caressing you. Your lips fail to suppress a smile as he sends one back. 

And before he pulls you for another kiss, he utters those words that make your heart swell in happiness and butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

_ “I love you so fucking much, Peaches.” _


End file.
